24. In the end, who truly lacks a moral compass?

Taking a comfortable sip of chilled beer, Bai Haonan finally picked up his chopsticks and spoke, “I don’t understand singing, and I can’t explain things well, but I know one thing: these days, whoever stands on the stage isn’t necessarily the best.”

The two of them sat at a restaurant just outside the university, the open-air kind with a sunshade, casual yet delicious. Qiao Yingna avoided spicy food; Bai Haonan refused ham, luncheon meat, organ meats, barbecue, braised dishes, hot pot—anything with too many spices. Somehow, they still found overlap in their tastes. Qiao Yingna caught herself feeling a secret delight at this discovery, realizing she was done for. Now, she watched Bai Haonan with an unusually earnest gaze, as if wanting to truly understand and see through this man—a man who seemed utterly careless on the surface, but was distinctly different once you got to know him.

Of course, she knew that her desire to understand him was even more dangerous.

Bai Haonan rarely spoke about principles; he only talked about what he knew. “You probably don’t know how high the elimination rate is in football. Go to any youth team or sports school—gifted kids are everywhere. The stars who make it now had plenty of equally talented peers when they were young. Some were just about to hit the league and earn big money, only to be destroyed by injuries. Just when they were about to make it, they lost everything…”

Qiao Yingna murmured, “All for nothing.”

Bai Haonan nodded, taking another sip. “Exactly. When you’re young, playing football feels reckless; everyone thinks they’re invincible, tries every move, and after scoring, slides on the ground like the big stars. Do you know the quality of Premier League and Bundesliga pitches? How much hard stuff is in the soil? The medical university grounds are good, but the artificial turf is so thin and poorly maintained underneath. So many knees get ruined this way. If you don’t protect yourself, you can’t rely on good medical care here. Kids are treated like adults. Did you know every stadium in developed countries has a defibrillator on standby for sudden death? Even our top league doesn’t have enough.”

The medical student was stunned. She’d thought this man was only good for chasing girls and nothing else, but only when he talked about football did he become so… perhaps thanks to those glasses, even a bit insightful!

Especially when he touched on medicine, she understood. A little listening, and she knew Bai Haonan spoke the truth—a genuine insight.

His conclusion was simple: “So those who make it professionally are both elite and lucky. I used to dine with all kinds of bosses, heard them say that one truth applies everywhere. Your singing, I guess, is about the same.”

Qiao Yingna didn’t realize how charming she looked in her gentle admiration. “Singing? I know people damage their voices, but surely not at the rate you see in football?”

Haonan liked seeing beautiful women being attractive; he took another sip, then leaned in, lowering his voice mischievously. “You still don’t get it? I’m talking about the path. You think those who are lucky are really just lucky?”

Qiao Yingna was so surprised she nearly pressed her face to his. “What… do you mean?”

Bai Haonan gave a contemptuous smile, exuding an aura of a devilish, bankrupt CEO. “Why was I able to play in the top league? I had skills, sure, but plenty of people have skills. What else? Someone showed me the way. I never slid, never somersaulted, never took risks, never smoked, never skated, never touched anything with banned substances. But I ate everything I needed that wouldn’t get caught. That’s why I made it—ten years, almost no injuries. What about you? No matter how well you sing, without someone guiding you, do you think you’ll succeed?”

The aspiring singer—the girl who dreamed of stardom—was stunned. No one had ever crushed her dreams so simply and brutally. She stammered, “You… mean I can’t?”

Bai Haonan nodded, smiling. “No matter how well you play, if you don’t give the coach a red envelope, he won’t let you on the field. Even if you get on, he’ll pull you off. If your parents don’t offer enough, the coach won’t teach seriously. If the kid’s mom looks nice, maybe she’ll visit the coach’s room tonight to discuss training. Will you go or not? I understood this when I was ten. You’ve studied for more than ten years—still don’t get it?”

Qiao Yingna’s eyes widened. “Does it really… have to be this cruel?” Compared to the football world, ordinary education still seemed innocent, but the entertainment industry appeared even dirtier.

Bai Haonan shrugged. “What else? Before anyone becomes famous, they’re at the mercy of others. Let me think… When I was in Beijing for an away game, I hooked up with a girl—a small-time actress doing bit parts. She said if she wanted to get into drama school, she had to sleep with someone. Crew members decide who joins the cast, so to get a job, she had to let them have their way. Then the assistant director picks the cast—sleep with him, you get a role; otherwise, you’re sidelined. Next is the director—he calls it an audition. If you sleep with the director, that’s considered art—damn… After the director, it’s the producer. In film and TV, the producer is like the chairman. You have to give yourself there, too. Making it that far means you’re already a star, but it’s not over. There are investors—no money, no show. Every production has a bunch of investors; you climb into their beds one by one, please them, satisfy them, and only then do you get funding…”

His memory was impressive, recalling these stories with the precision of a hard drive filled with forbidden films. The verbs he used made Qiao Yingna’s heart race in fear.

The medical student’s worldview was shaken. “I know… but it can’t all be true…” She’d at least experienced some of the real darkness behind the glamour, otherwise a pure, naive girl would have covered her ears and stomped her feet, refusing to listen.

Bai Haonan slid his arm around her smooth shoulder, ambiguous. “That girl was good in bed, had a big chest, and was willing. But she only got as far as the assistant director, because competition was so fierce. Besides those, the cameraman, editor—even the writer, props, and costume—if they threaten you, do you give in? She did. Otherwise, you pay money until they’re satisfied. Do you have enough money to pay everyone? Becoming a star is about making money; if you can’t pay, you pay with your body.”

Qiao Yingna pushed him away, trying to protect her dwindling dreams. “I… I still want to try. I can’t resign myself to being a doctor sitting in the ward all day. I don’t believe everywhere is so dark.”

Bai Haonan drained the rest of his beer. “Mm, I just heard about it. Everyone who sells their body loves to tell tragic stories, but that’s how the football world is—I’ve been through it. I’m happy to watch your story unfold, see whether what I’ve heard is true or not.”

Qiao Yingna’s lips twitched into a smile, pouring herself a glass in toast to Bai Haonan. “Sorry, I take back what I said this morning. You’re actually a good man—Xiaofen’s taste is really spot on.”

Bai Haonan was shocked. “Is this how you university students hand out ‘good person cards’?” He raised his glass anyway.

Qiao Yingna laughed, fresh and natural. “You’re smart, kind, honestly a very good person. To survive in such darkness and filth and remain as you are—even if you ignore the rules, you have your own moral code. You fight against all the falsehoods. But you’re still… well, really, you’re a big kid—a clean-hearted child whose view of life and the world isn’t yet formed. Maybe one day, when you know exactly what you should do, you’ll grow up and shine brightly!”

Bai Haonan glanced around theatrically, his hesitation well-played. “Are you talking about me? This is the most roundabout ‘good person card’ I’ve ever seen.”

Qiao Yingna laughed boldly, testing, “You just love to pretend. I wish you luck tonight—find a rich lady, and when you have money, sponsor my path to becoming a singer. I’ll pay you back with my body—however long it takes!”

Bai Haonan played along, rubbing his hands excitedly. “Thanks for the blessing! I hope you catch a sugar daddy, too. If you’re rich, just keep me—I’m confident I’ll serve you well.”

Qiao Yingna finally looked down at herself. “Do you think… my chest is still too small?” It wasn’t, really; she liked to wear bras that gave her a lift, making it look even better.

Bai Haonan reassured her, reaching out. “No, I like them just like this—C is the perfect size. Trust my professional eye!”

Qiao Yingna laughed so hard she cried.

Such a man really would be wasted if he didn’t become a gigolo.